


Orange Lilies for Disdain

by Lunarlooroo



Series: White Heather [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Heather James and Sirius are cousins, Inspired by a Tumblr Prompt, M/M, Professor!Heather, Role Reversal, Student!Severus, reverse!au - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-02 19:53:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17270057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarlooroo/pseuds/Lunarlooroo
Summary: Heather Potter has just started her new job as the Potions Mistress at Hogwarts. It isn't easy balancing her personal relationship with her cousins against her duty as their teacher, especially when she finds them tormenting a student in her own house.As the new Head of Slytherin, she will face the tough challenge of earning the trust of her new charges. Not to mention the whispers of a would-be Dark Lord spreading his toxic agenda among her snakes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A role reversal au where Heather and Hadrian were born a few years earlier than the Marauder's generation. Inspired by a prompt I received on tumblr that asked for a teacher-student role reversal.
> 
> Won't be updated as frequently as the main story.

Heather walked down the hallowed halls of Hogwarts, smiling wistfully as memories of her own schooldays here floated through her mind. There, the statue of the hump-backed troll that Fred and George had dressed in the star-spangled robes they’d stolen from Headmaster Dumbledore. And the stone walls next to the Charms Classroom where there was still a large purple stain from a particularly wacky spell Heather had thrown while fending off an annoyingly persistent boy.

This was her first week back at Hogwarts as the new Potions Mistress and Head of Slytherin House, and she was loving it already. While she’d not really considered teaching as a career choice, she’d agreed to give it a go at Professor Slughorn’s behest. It was probably the best choice she could have taken. Perhaps when she was older she would consider leaving the school and opening her own apothecary, but for now she was happy to be a professor.

The sounds of a skirmish jolted her out of her musings and she hurried her steps to find out what was going on. Her least favourite part of her new job was when students made trouble. It was especially prevalent in her lessons because she wasn’t much older than them, which made them a bit less likely to recognise her authority. It was probably also because of her short stature, making her look even younger than some of her own students. Professor McGonagall – _Minerva_ , had given her some pointers on handling her class which she had taken to heart, but it would take some time before the students grew to respect her as their teacher.

As she rounded the corner, the sight before her made her burst into action. Four boys cornering one was bad odds any time, but even worse when the one did not have his wand. With a mere thought, she disarmed each attacker and bound them with an _Incarcerous_. None of them had seen or heard her coming, which was the point of the nonverbal magic.

She hastened to check on the lone boy, noting the green and silver tie he wore. So he was one of her snakes. Unfortunately, she hadn’t quite managed to remember all their names yet, but she did recognise his face. His cheek was bruised and he was favouring his right side, though there did not seem to be any open wounds.

“Are you alright?” she asked in concern. The boy was eying her warily, as if she would attack him as well. It broke her heart to see that. “I’m going to heal your wounds, is that alright?” She waited until he nodded before she slowly raised her wand and cast a few healing spells. The bruises and other scrapes were easily taken care of, though his ribs would be a little tender for a few days.

Once she was done taking care of her Slytherin, she turned back to the quartet of boys – Gryffindor, she noted. And as it happened, she _did_ know their names. Two of them, anyway.

“James Fleamont Potter, Sirius Orion Black, what in the name of Merlin did you think you were doing?” she demanded angrily.

The boys gave her sullen frowns, with no hint of remorse to be seen. She scowled heavily. “Well? Answer me!”

“Knew you’d take the side of a dirty Slytherin, _Cousin_ Heather,” James said snidely.

“50 points,” Heather said coldly, “ _each_.” She watched as the boys all took on horrified expressions. “And detention every day for a month!”

“What about Quidditch!” James and Sirius protested, exactly in sync.

Heather raised a brow. “You should have thought of that before you ganged up on a fellow student.” She wandlessly released their bindings. “Now off you trot.”

“What about our wands, Professor Potter?” a boy with light brown hair and some scars across his face asked.

“Well, Mr-?”

“Remus Lupin, fourth year,” the boy said.

“Well, Mr Lupin. As none of you seem to be able to be responsible with your magic, I will simply have to do it for you until you learn.”

“That’s not fair!” Sirius shouted.

She tilted her head. “What’s not fair?” she asked mockingly, “Four against one? You also saw fit to deprive him of his wand. Yes, that certainly doesn’t seem fair, now does it? And you call yourselves _Gryffindors_.”

The fourth Gryff, a rotund boy with beady eyes, shrunk in on himself, intimidated.

“Now, off you go,” she repeated, watching them as they slunk away with their tails between their legs. She narrowed her eyes at her cousins, James and Sirius, wondering if this was a regular activity of theirs. Well, Aunt Euphemia would surely like to hear of this.

She then remembered the boy behind her and she turned her attention back to him. She was mildly surprised that he had not already left, but she supposed the attraction of watching his tormentors get dressed down was too much for him to resist.

Smiling kindly at him, she summoned his wand, which was on the other side of the hallway, and hand it back to him, hilt first.

“I apologise, I don’t quite recall your name,” she said.

He stared at her wordlessly for a few moments before speaking. “Severus…Snape.”

The slight hesitation before his last name had not been missed. Sadly enough, she even understood why. Snape was not a wizarding name. Although Heather cared not a whit about blood purity and family lineage, Slytherins, as a whole, usually did.

She took care not to let her smile falter at his words. “Well, Mr Snape, do you have any other injuries?”

The boy shook his head.

“Alright, that’s good. Please let me know if they, or anyone else, bother you again.” Severus did not respond, though she had not expected him to. “Oh, before I forget!” She stuck a hand in her mokeskin satchel. It had an Undetectable Extension Charm on it – a gift from Fred and George – so she had to summon what she wanted or she’d be searching for days.

“Here you go!” Heather held out a jar of bruise paste. “Just in case, alright?”

Severus was impassive as he took the offered potion. He had really gotten the Slytherin look down pat. Or was it perhaps a natural inclination? He then inclined his head slightly.

“Appreciated,” he murmured grudgingly.

She hid a smile at the tone and dismissed him. As she made her way to Minerva’s office to inform her of recent events, she didn’t notice the intent gaze follow her until she was out of sight.

~~~

Heather had her back turned towards the empty classroom as she cleaned the board and wrote down the recipe for the Wit-Sharpening Potion. Her next class, fourth year Gryff/Slyth, was due in a few minutes and she was already anticipating trouble. Why the Headmaster insisted on scheduling the two most volatile houses together for Potions, she did not know. Perhaps he secretly wanted the dungeons to explode. He’d never been particularly subtle about his distrust for her house.

Students slowly began to filter in as it grew closer to the time to start. When the bell rang, she noticed that she was down three students. And they were three she was familiar with. _Oh well_ , she made a motion to close the door when James Potter, Sirius Black and a boy she had found out was named Peter Pettigrew crashed into the room. They were technically late, but she wasn’t strict enough to do more then send them to their seats with a reprimanding look. Remus Lupin, she noticed, had his head in his hands like he was embarrassed by his friends.

“Now that we are _all_ here,” she said, not able to resist the pointed jibe, “I’ll start handing out the tests I gave you last week.”

And yes, Heather had spent the first weeks’ lessons giving tests. It hadn’t won her any points with the students, but she needed to know where their current level was at. Horace Slughorn wasn’t exactly known for his impartiality or rigorous instruction.

She tapped the tip of her wand to the stack of papers on her desk, sending them flying to the respective students.

“I have to say that I am not completely satisfied with the skill level you lot are at. Most of you could possibly _just_ scrape by an Acceptable, but there are a select few whom I believe need to put in much more effort if you wish to pass. Of course, there are also some students who have done well, and for that I applaud you. You all know which category you each fall into.”

She was careful not to look at any student in particular as she spoke. She didn’t want to be the kind of teacher that played favourites. She had hated that about Professor Slughorn.

“However, whether or not you are struggling with your studies or at the top of the class, as long as you seek improvement, I am willing to help.” She gave them all a warm smile. “Feel welcome to approach me if that is the case.”

Most of the class had blank expressions on their faces, though she could tell her words had made a handful of them thoughtful. That was enough for her.

“Okay, now that that’s over with, it’s time to begin.” She stepped aside so that she was not blocking the blackboard. “Who can tell me what potion this is?”

Immediately several hands rose. She picked a brunette Gryffindor sitting in the first row. “Please tell me your name as well, I’m afraid I haven’t memorised it yet.”

“Marlene McKinnon, ma’am,” the girl said promptly, “That’s the Wit-Sharpening Potion.”

“Correct,” Heather said, nodding. “Please turn to page 108 in your textbooks. The recipe I have written on the board is the exact one you can find in front of you. Now,” she tapped the board. The words on the board changed slightly. “I’ve made a few modifications to the potion. Anyone can tell me what they are and what effects they will have?”

This time, the hands were slower to rise. Heather asked a Slytherin sitting in the middle of the room.

“Evan Rosier. In the second step you changed the number of clockwise swirls from three to seven. That allows better mixing of the juice from the ginger root added in the first step, hence reducing the dizziness that some people experience when drinking the potion.”

She was pleased with the comprehensive answer. Evan was one of the students who had done better than average on the test. “Excellent work, 3 points to Slytherin. Next?”

A red-head Gryffindor was called to speak.

“I’m Lily Evans, ma’am. You added the scarab beetles before the armadillo bile instead of after. That’s because the potion needs to be acidic when you add the beetles so they can dissolve in the solution. Adding the bile would neutralise the potion and the beetles would remain inert.”

“Yes, that’s right! 3 points to Gryffindor.”

To her surprise, Lily then raised her arm again. “Professor? Why did you use whole scarab beetles when using ground beetles like the original recipe would negate the problem with the acidity?”

“Good question, Ms Evans. Does anyone know the answer to that?” Her gaze swept across the class to see if anyone would like to try their hand at the question. For several moments, no one stirred at all. Then, a single hand slowly made its way into the air.

Ah, Severus Snape, the boy that had been in that confrontation with the four Gryffindors, sitting right at the back corner of the room.

“Yes, Mr Snape?”

“In grinding the beetles, most of its bodily fluid is lost. Using the whole beetle ensures that the fluid is retained and added into the potion. Although this method would prolong the brewing time by ten minutes, the enhanced effect of the Wit-Sharpening Potion itself is more than worth that time.” He said all this with a bored look on his face.

She wouldn’t have known the boy could speak so much at one go, from the way he had been yesterday. Perhaps it really just depended on the subject. He seemed to have a talent for Potions, judging from the perfect score he’d gotten on the test.

“Well done, Mr Snape! I wouldn’t have expected such an answer at this level, but you’ve surpassed my expectations. 3 points to Slytherin.” She was being honest about it. This was more advanced material than what was required of fourth year and she had only asked to see if anyone had read beyond the scope of the curriculum.

“Psh, it’s just a few drops of beetle gunk, what difference would it make?”

Heather’s eyes narrowed in displeasure at the impertinent comment. Turning her head, she had to withhold a sigh at the source.

“Mr Black, as this is your first infarction in my class, I’m letting you go with a warning. Any more and I will take points.” She gave him her chilliest glare, the one she had learnt from her mother. No one did cold anger like Dorea Potter née Black.

Sirius bit his lip, visibly restraining himself from retorting, and she left it at that.

“Okay class,” she said, more cheerfully, “You may now begin on your potions. You have around 45 minutes left till class ends. More than enough time for this potion.”

A Gryffindor boy close to the back raised his hand for a question.

“Professor? Which recipe should we use? Oh, err, my name is Frank Longbottom.”

Nearby, she could see several students, all from her house, roll their eyes.

“It’s your choice, of course, Mr Longbottom. Would you like to brew a standard potion in a shorter amount of time, or would you rather take a few extra minutes to brew one that is twice as effective and has lesser side effects?”

Next, James raised his hand.

“Professor Slughorn always insisted that we adhere strictly to the methods in our textbook, ma’am.” There was a challenging look in his eyes, but she didn’t rise to the bait.

“I am not disparaging Professor Slughorn’s teachings,” she said calmly, “We simply have different styles of brewing. As I said, the choice is up to you.”

She had expected students to question her methods. It was understandable, given that they were used to Professor Slughorn’s by-the-book teaching. She would give them time to adapt, but she would not tolerate disrespect over it.

When she thought that the questions were finally done with, another hand was raised, this time by Severus.

“Are we allowed to use our own modifications, Professor?”

She couldn’t say she was surprised by that. Severus certainly seemed advanced enough to have experimented on his own.

“Of course. Please make a note of your changes if you do so and hand it in with your potion.”

Heather didn’t think she had imagined the pleased glint in Severus eyes when she said that, nor the acidic glare James and Sirius shot him.

Well, this was turning out to be an interesting class.

~~~

Heather was currently debating whether she should laugh or glare at the small sheet of parchment in her hands. She looked between it and the phial on the table.

_ James Potter _

_Modification to Wit-Sharpening Potion_

  1. _Don’t use ginger root, armadillo bile or scarab beetles_
  2. _Just boil water_
  3. _Add lemon juice_



_Effects: Gives potion a pleasant citrusy taste, side effects removed_

The phial contained clear liquid. It was literally just lemon water.

It was funny, she had to admit. She _had_ given them leave to modify their potions at their own discretion. If James wanted to make digs at her by sabotaging his own Potions marks, then who was she to stop him?

She wrote a large, red T on her marksheet. Underneath James’ mark, Severus’ O stood out in stark contrast.

At 8pm on the dot, a knock came on her door. She let it swing open to admit four troublemaking Gryffindors. She was surprised to see them so punctual for detention, but it must have been due to Remus’ efforts. The way James and Sirius pouted at the boy and rubbed their wrists was a large indication.

She directed them to the four desks that were the furthest from each other, at the corners of the classroom. She had already placed the necessary supplies at each table. James was to chop flobberworms, Sirius to disembowel horned toads, Peter to skin shrivelfigs and Remus, well.

After making sure each of them knew what to do, she went with Remus to the fourth table, where a cauldron was set up with various ingredients laid out across the desktop. She set up a one-way silencing charm around the area and turned to Remus with a serious look on her face.

“Remus, out of the four of you, you have the best potions marks. So I’ve decided to teach you how to brew a certain potion.”

The boy looked surprised at that, though when he spoke he was calm. “What potion are we brewing, ma’am?”

Instead of answering, she asked him to identify each ingredient on the table. He did so with relative ease, until he came to the last one. He paused, freezing in place.

“It’s an herb called aconite. It’s sometimes also called monkshood, blue rocket…and wolfsbane.”

The blood drained from her student’s face.

She sighed. “Mr Lupin, are you familiar with the Wolfsbane Potion?”

He nodded jerkily. “It’s for-for werewolves to control themselves during the full moon.”

“Mr Lupin, I’ll be frank with you. I know that you’re a werewolf.”

Remus jerked back, watching her with fear in his eyes.

Heather gentled her expression. “Remus, you don’t have to be scared. I’m not one of those close-minded bigots who fear werewolves for something they can’t control. Headmaster Dumbledore told me about you so that I would brew the Wolfsbane Potion for you every month.”

“But why?”

Remus was honestly so baffled by her words that it made her heart hurt. Here a fourteen-year-old was, so unused to receiving kindness from people who knew his secret that he didn’t understand when it happened.

“Because I can. And if you work hard, soon you will be able to as well.”

That seemed to get through to him, though he still kept a wary distance from her.

“I read that the potion is very difficult to brew,” Remus said slowly.

“Lucky for you, I know how to. And I think with some practice, you’ll be able to learn. The question now is, are you willing to work for it?” she challenged.

She grinned with satisfaction at the determined nod Remus gave as he stepped up to the table.

“What do I do first?”

~~~

With a huge sigh, Heather stretched out her stiff muscles, humming when some of the tension in her body was released. She walked around her office, just to move around a bit. After a whole day of sitting at her desk, talking to her Slytherin charges, she needed a tiny break.

The previous student’s appointment had ended early, so she had a few minutes before the next one was due. It was tough work being a Head of House. Even tougher being a new one. While it was not strictly necessary, Pomona had suggested she take some time to talk to each of her snakes, just to find out a little more about them and see if they needed any help or advice. She’d finished up the first and second years last weekend, so this weekend was for the next two years.

Many of them were skittish around her, which she understood all too well. It was a common trait of those in her house to be slow to trust. She herself did not warm up to people easily. Hopefully they would eventually come to trust her as school continued.

When she heard a sharp rap on her door, she went to open it.

“Ahh, Mr Snape. Right on time. Please, have a seat.” She gestured to the wingback in front of her desk as she took her own seat.

“Professor Potter, may I ask why I have been called to your office?”

She smiled in an attempt to relax her student. “Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble. I would just like to have a friendly chat. This is so I can get to know you better and find out if there’s anything I can do for you as your Head of House.”

“What would you like to know?” Severus asked guardedly.

“First, of all, would you like some tea?” Severus looked suspiciously at the tea set placed to the side of her desk and shook his head. She shrugged and prepared a cup for herself. “Well, feel free to help yourself to it and the biscuits. There are apple cinnamon and orange chocolate.”

Severus didn’t make a move to take anything.

Well, not unexpected.

“So, how has school been so far?” Heather asked.

“Fine, ma’am.”

She hummed. “No one has given you any trouble?”

Something flashed across his dark eyes before he replied in the negative. Fair enough. She’d preferred to handle all her problems on her own back when she was in school as well.

“Good, good. And your studies? Have you had any problem with any of your subjects?”

“They are manageable.”

She nodded. Well, it wasn’t the worst conversation she’d had so far. One third year had stuck to only yes or no the whole time.

Picking up her copy of Severus’ exam results, she smiled. “I see here that you’ve excelled in most of your subjects and passed all of them. I suppose there is nothing to worry about in this area.”

The boy nodded impassively.

“Is there anything is particular you have concerns about?”

Nothing, of course.

“Alright. But if at any point in the future something crops up, you may come to me.”

“Of course, Professor,” Severus said blankly.

Like talking to a wall, it was.

“Are you thinking of joining any of the school clubs? I remember your mother was a dab hand at gobstones.” Eileen Prince had been reigning champion for the last four years of her Hogwarts education, in fact.

 _That_ seemed to get a reaction out of Severus.

“You know my mother?”

She tilted her head a little. “Not exactly, but my mother was friends with her. They were both in Slughorn’s little club. I’m not sure if your mother has mentioned her, Dorea Black?”

The boy jerked at the word ‘Black’, but he quickly recomposed himself.

“No, I will not be joining any clubs.”

“I see.” She couldn’t quite put her finger on why, but she got the feeling that his mother was a touchy point for him. “I’ve noticed that you don’t spend a lot of time with your housemates. Is there any reason why?”

“No.”

Back to the blank wall, then.

“I’ve seen you hanging out a lot of Ms Evans, however. Is she a good friend of yours?”

His eyes narrowed into an almost glare at the mention of the girl. He lifted his chin in defiance. “Yes, what of it?”

Heather raised an eyebrow at the defensiveness he was displaying. Clearly, he had gotten a lot of flak over his friendship with Lily Evans. From what she gathered from Minerva, James and his friends also tormented him over it because James had a crush on Lily.

“It was a simple question, Mr Snape,” she said, a mild rebuke in her voice.

Severus lowered his head sullenly. “Apologies, ma’am,” he said, clearly forcing himself.

“That’s quite alright.” She watched him for a while. He seemed calm, sitting still with his shoulders and back perfectly straight. But she could see the slight movements of his arm that indicated his hands were fidgeting. “You know, Mr Snape, back when I was a student here, my only friends were two Gryffindors as well.”

His gaze shot up to hers, then. It was clear he was surprised.

“Yes, Fred and George Weasley, twins. Well, I suppose technically they’re also my cousins, of a sort. Their mother is a Black. Anyway, I know a snake spending all their time with a lion might not be very well received. If you get any trouble that escalates beyond what you can reasonably handle, I sincerely hope you will let me help.”

Severus stared at her with wide eyes. Eventually, he murmured an ‘okay’, more sincere than anything he had said prior. He was quick to school his expression, after that, but that moment was more than enough for her.

“I have just one last question, Mr Snape. I admit that this is actually more for me,” she said, grinning, “How are you finding Potions class?”

“It is…very different from Professor Slughorn’s lessons,” Severus said carefully.

“You don’t have to worry about offending me. Be as frank as you want. Constructive criticism is necessary for improvement, after all,” she assured him.

He shook his head. “No, your methods are more interesting.”

“But?” she asked, sensing the hesitation in his voice.

“I simply wonder if your lessons are not too complex for the rest of the class to comprehend.”

Ahh. She lifted her cup to her lips to hide a smile. After taking a sip of tea, she said, “What I teach is a little beyond the textbook, I admit. If a student is struggling, it’s because they’ve only been memorising the recipes instead of understanding the purpose of each ingredient and their interactions. I’m pushing them into actually learning the theory. For those diligent enough, they’ll be able to catch up with some help. For those that don’t care enough to try?” She smirked. “Well, I have to start weeding them out from my NEWTs classes anyway.”

She caught a flash of a smile on Severus’ face before he wiped it away.

“I understand, Professor.”

Nodding, she said, “That’s all for today, Mr Snape. Anything you’d like to ask me before you go?”

A flicker of indecision passed over his face. Heather waited patiently as she took a biscuit from the platter. Once she had finished it and taken a mouthful of tea to wash it down, Severus finally sorted through whatever internal struggle he’d had. He reached into his pocket and placed a familiar jar onto the table. It was the bruise paste she’d given to him.

“Professor Potter, may I ask how you brewed this batch of bruise paste?” There was a wrinkle in his brow, giving away his irritation.

“I assume you tried to recreate it?”

Severus gave a terse nod.

“What did you manage to find?” She was curious to see what progress he’d made with it.

“Compared to the standard potion, it has a slightly paler shade and is less viscous. When I tried to brew it myself, I halved the amount of arnica root and added verbascum instead. I got a paste that looked, smelt and felt exactly like the one you gave me. However, I have not been able to reproduce its efficacy.”

“The faster acting time and cooling effect?”  Heather clarified.

His eye twitched at that. He was clearly very bothered by this. “Indeed.”

She should have expected that Severus would experiment with the potion. Well, far be it from her to discourage a student’s passion in her subject.

“Mr Snape, what do you know of Runic Potions?”

Severus’ expression morphed into one of shock. “Runic Potions? They are a very recent discovery. I have heard of them, but only the latest edition of the Comprehensive Journal of Potions has any worthwhile information on them at all. I have not had the chance to read it.” He ducked his head just the slightest degree when he said so, almost in embarrassment.

It might be presumptive of her, but she thought the reason could be lack of funds to purchase a subscription of the annual journal. Certainly, it wasn’t for lack of wanting. She didn’t need long to make her decision. With a twitch of her fingers, she summoned her copy of the journal from her bookshelf.

Her student stiffened at the sudden movement, but when he caught sight of the book in her hands, he couldn’t help but lean forward to take a closer look.

No, not a lack of wanting indeed.

“Here, Mr Snape. I expect this might be of interest to you.” She pushed the journal into his hands.

His fingers clutched at it eagerly before he came to his senses and dropped it. “There is no need for-”

“Mr Snape,” she said firmly, “It is my duty as your teacher to nurture your interest in my subject. Take it as a loan, I insist.”

Slowly, his hands inched forward again. His fingers stroked down the leather cover of the book reverently and she could tell he would be diving into its pages as soon as he left her office.

“I trust you will take care of it well.”

“Of course, Professor Potter,” Severus said, holding the book protectively against his chest like he feared her retracting her words and snatching it back from him.

“Take as long as you’d like with it. I would love to hear what you think.”

He nodded wordlessly, still looking a little stunned.

Smiling kindly, she gestured at the door. “You are free to go, Mr Snape. Have a nice weekend.”

Severus’ steps were quick, eager to get started on reading, she bet. At the threshold of the door, he made an unexpected pause. His head turned slightly, not quite looking at her.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

It was barely a whisper. She wouldn’t have heard it had she not been paying attention.

The boy left immediately after that.

Heather couldn’t help the large smile stretching across her cheeks. Thankfully the next student to come in was one Narcissa Black. Her cousin was already too used to stories of her strange antics to be freaked out by her strange moods.

~~~

 

Heather had patrol duty for during the first Hogsmeade weekend of the school year. She didn’t really mind it much. It gave her an excuse to get out of the castle and stretch her legs a little. Teachers weren’t really prohibited from leaving the castle, but as a Head of House, she was expected to be available to her students if they needed to find her. Plus, she was still adjusting to the workload, so she hadn’t tried to take leave from the school yet. Even during the weekends.

It would be a refreshing change to get away for once.

She was walking past the same quill display that had been out since her first year when someone called her name. She turned around, only to get a muscular chest to the face.

“Hey, it’s been a while Heather!”

She looked up to find green eyes like hers. She beamed, leaning in for another quick hug.

“Rian! It’s good to see you!”

Her brother put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her away slightly. Scrutinising her from head to toe, he frowned.

“Wow, you’ve grown more boring.”

She shot him an offended look. “Excuse me? I’ll have you know this is called ‘mature’. Though I’m not surprised you haven’t heard of the concept before.”

“If you say so, _Professor_ Potter,” he teased.

She couldn’t stifle her smile. “Anyway, what are you doing here?”

“I found out it was a Hogsmeade weekend, so I came down specially to see you! Mum and Dad wanted to come, but they had to prepare for that fundraiser they’re having.”

Nodding, she slipped her hand into the arm her brother offered. “The one for orphans?”

“Yep. They even got Celestina Warbeck to come perform. Now enough about that, want to go have lunch at the Leaky for nostalgia’s sake? It’s been _ages_ since I had their pie!”

She rolled her eyes as she let her brother pull her along. “It’s only been two years since you graduated.”

“Like I said, _ages_!”

Shaking her head with a smile, she let it go. “So, how have you been? Master Holt still smashing you into walls?”

“Har har, Heather. That was _one_ time, a _year_ ago.”

“Nine months, actually,” she sing-songed.”

Ignoring her, he continued. “And I’ll have you know I beat him in half our duels now. He’s going to start teaching me how to craft my own offence spells.”

“Hmm,” she said, “I wonder how that will mesh with wandless.”

Hadrian shrugged. “I dunno, but it should be a blast.”

“Literally.”

“Exactly! That’ll be great!”

“I shouldn’t have let you spend so much time with Fred and George,” she said, shaking her head.

They had finally reached the Leaky Cauldron, but the pub was so crowded there weren’t any empty tables left. Heather was about to suggest they just find somewhere else to eat when Hadrian nudged her. She looked to him in question and he just jerked his chin to something behind her. When she turned to look at what he was referring to, she realised that Regulus, their cousin and Sirius’ younger brother, was waving them over.

“Heather, Hadrian! Feel free to sit with us!”

Heather glanced to the other person at the table, who was glowering fiercely at her cousin.

“Are you sure? We wouldn’t want to disturb you,” she asked.

“Perish the thought! We would be delighted to have you!” Regulus said.

She was amused by the formal language he used. He occasionally slipped into it, having been drilled harshly by his mother. He was actually one of her favourite cousins, save for Fred and George. She had spent a lot of time babysitting him when they were younger and they had bonded over a common love of reading. Hadrian had gotten along better with Sirius, but she didn’t think her brother would appreciate what the Black heir was getting up to nowadays.

Hadrian pulled her down onto a chair, forestalling anymore queries from her. Her gaze flickered briefly to the other student at the table, Severus Snape. He didn’t look very pleased to be spending his day out with a teacher. Sighing internally, she made a note to eat as quickly as possible so they could leave.

Rosmerta came over to take their orders, and once that had been settled, Regulus set out to make introductions.

“Heather, Hadrian, this is a good friend of mine, Severus Snape, a fourth year Slytherin. Severus, you know Professor Potter. And this is her brother Hadrian Potter.”

It seemed Heather had been wrong before about Severus not having friends within the house. She wondered how she had missed that he was so close to her own cousin?

“Nice to meet you, Severus! Oh, sorry, may I call you Severus?” Hadrian said cheerfully. Severus had no choice but to nod mutely, of course.

“Before you ask, yes, he’s a Gryffindor,” Heather said, rolling her eyes in mock disgust.

Hadrian straightened and puffed his chest out. “Well of course I’m a lion! Who else would dare to sit at a table full of snakes, huh?”

Heather looked at Severus. “Don’t mind Hadrian, Mr Snape. He’s still jealous the hat didn’t sort him into Slytherin.”

Severus lifted a hand to his mouth. To hide a smile, she thought.

“That is quite understandable, Professor Potter,” the boy said primly, ignoring Hadrian’s protests.

At that point, the waitress served their food. There was some silence as they dug hungrily into their food.

“You know,” Regulus said, swallowing a bite of mash, “this Mister this, Professor that, business is rather awkward. Why don’t we just use each other’s names while we’re here?”

Severus’ head swivelled to face him, shocked. “Regulus-”

“That’s a good idea!” Hadrian said. “You’re not in school anyway.”

“Well,” Heather said, “I don’t really mind. Like Rian said, we’re not in school right now. But it’s back to ‘Professor’ in Hogwarts, alright?” She looked sternly at the two boys, who nodded quickly. “Excellent! Then Mr Snape, please feel free to call me Heather.”

“…Severus then, Profe- Heather,” the boy said, rather uncomfortably.

“To be honest with you,” Heather said, making a face, “Sometimes I take so long to answer in class because I forget the students are referring to me when they say ‘Professor Potter’. I’m not used to it at all! It makes me feel way too old, too!”

“Like you needed that to make you old,” Hadrian said. She stole a mouthful of his pie revenge. Scowling, he turned to Regulus and Severus. “You know, when she was in school, she used to spend her Hogsmeade weekends in the labs, brewing! She needed to be dragged out of the dungeons or she never surfaced!”

“Oh, that is an exaggeration and you know it! I had Quidditch practice didn’t I! I can still catch a snitch faster than you can,” she said, smirking.

“Oh, really? Want to bet on that?” Hadrian challenged.

“They’re always like that,” she heard Regulus whisper to Severus.

“Why even bother?” she asked, “We both know who’s going to win.”

“Oh, Heather.” Hadrian widened his eyes. “Are you _scared?”_

“Of course not!” she said, allowing herself to be riled up. “Name your terms!”

Tilting his chin up smugly, he laid down his conditions. “I win, and you agree to be spell practice the coming summer!”

She drew back a little. “You just talked about making stuff explode!”

“So? If you don’t have the guts…” he trailed off.

Narrowing her eyes stubbornly, she said, “Fine! Then if _I_ win, you take over all nanny duties this summer!”

As expected, her brother cringed. “That’s _cruel_ Heather.”

She raised a brow.

“But I don’t have to worry,” he said hastily, “Because I could beat you anytime!”

“10pm tonight, Hogwarts’ pitch,” she stated.

“Deal.” They shook on it.

That was when Heather remembered where they were and blushed. She looked at Regulus, who was grinning madly at them, and Severus, who just looked bewildered.

Clearing her throat, she said, “Well, it should be clear to you two, but I don’t want to hear from any teacher that they caught you out of bed after curfew.” She looked meaningfully at them.

“Of course, Heather, what do you take us for?” Regulus said, crossing his arms. Beside him, Severus nodded.

“Good, good.”

They split up after finishing their meals. The two students were headed back to the castle. Hadrian left to go meet Cedric while Heather continued with her patrol.

She was a little embarrassed that her student had seen her so childish. Not Regulus, of course, he’d seen much worse. Severus, on the other hand, had probably lost all the respect he had for her. If he’d had any in the first place.

Oh well. It was too late now.


	2. Chapter 2

The announcement of a new Potions Professor had garnered some curiosity from Severus. That the person would be taking over as Head of Slytherin house only justified his interest. Whomever they were, they could make life either very difficult, or easier to bear.

When the name of the mysterious new teacher was introduced as Heather Potter, a feeling of foreboding crept forwards. When a young woman, looking no older than the students she was meant to teach, stood and waved, the feeling grew claws and sunk cruelly into his chest.

There was no mistaking that messy head of long hair, even if it was tied up into a loose bun, or those high cheekbones and winning smile.

Potter. Someone kin to James-bloody-Potter, the Gryffindor golden boy himself, was to be Slytherin’s next Head.

What utter buffoon had decided that?

He _refused_ to believe that anyone related to that self-righteous prick had enough cunning and skill to be a Slytherin. It just didn’t make sense.

Yet it was happening right before him.

For the past few years, Slughorn had been the only shield between Slytherin and the rest of the school. Granted, it had been little more than a flimsy attempt at protection – nothing more than jovial favouritism in class and turning a blind eye to certain acts of rule-breaking – but it was more than anyone else had offered.

And now, with a Potter at the helm…

Severus clenched his fists and settled in for a few years of sheer torture.

~~~

Severus had not had much a chance to observe the new teacher. The first week of classes had been an utter waste of time. Quizzes! For the first week!

The woman was either stupid not to realise it would not endear her to her students, or cruel that she didn’t care for the former.

He grudgingly admitted that the questions were of a higher standard than what Slughorn would have set, however. She _was_ a certified Potions Mistress, after all, despite her seemingly youthful age. She didn’t look more than a handful of years older than him and he could already see his classmates chafe under the authority of someone they perceived to be lesser than them. He did not contribute to the whispers, but he did not stop them either. It would make for good entertainment, at least.

He wondered if the woman would crack under the opposition or stand up for herself. She certainly seemed delicate enough for the former. He could not forget that she _was_ a Potter, however, and her relative was definitely more stubborn than a troll.

She had not made any moves that were indicative of her loyalties thus far. She seemed to treat each student equally and calmly. Still testing the waters, perhaps. It was more circumspect than what Potter Jr was capable of, but Severus tried not to hold any expectations.

A Potter was a Potter was a Potter, after all.

He had not witnessed any direct interaction between the two, not even in class, which was peculiar. For all he knew, she would immediately begin pandering to him the moment he acted out.

The moment of reckoning came soon, too soon for Severus’ liking.

He had been caught off guard, which was something that happened with distressing frequency when it came to the self-styled ‘Marauders’. It was as if they knew exactly when to attack him when he was alone and cut off from escape. This time, it was in a long, narrow corridor a short distance away from the Charms classroom. He knew there would be no one nearby to hear. There never was, when they decided to pounce.

His wand had been blasted out of his hand with a violent Disarming Charm early on in the altercation. He didn’t even know what it was that had prompted this tantrum. He never did. Was it that Lily had ignored Potter at lunch today? Or perhaps it was because Severus had managed to be the first in class to transfigure his hedgehog into a pincushion. For all he knew, it could simply have been the great storm that had caused Quidditch practice to be cancelled.

He was pleased that he had at least managed to get a few hexes in before his wand had been taken. Pettigrew and Black would be in serious discomfort for the next few days, without knowing why. Learning how to cast spells with delayed activation had allowed him greater vindication than he could describe in the past year. No one could pin it on him, no matter how hard they tried.

Now, though, he had his back to the wall, the four boys surrounding him with his wand thrown Salazar-knows-where by Potter. Unfortunately, it wasn’t an uncommon situation to find himself in.

He knew how this would go from here on.

After having put up an excellent fight, considering that it was four on one, he would eventually tire and get cornered. Potter or Black or Potter _and_ Black would shoot the most vicious spells they knew at him. They weren’t the most painful or serious, since the two idiots weren’t talented enough for that. But they would hurt nonetheless, and then he would be left there once they had gotten their fill of fun. There would be name-calling and slurs, too, of course, but Severus never paid attention to that. There were other things that required his focus, like positioning himself such that each spell hit him where it was the easiest to recover from.

He was ready to shield his abdomen from the Cutting Hex that was at the tip of Black’s wand when suddenly, the four lions’ wands were yanked out of their hands and golden ropes wrapped themselves tightly around each boy. They were wrapped practically from the neck down and there was no explanation other than magic how they remained standing upright.

In a shocking turn of events, his unlikely saviour turned out to be none other than the new Professor herself. His first reaction was to be wary. Was this some sort of elaborate prank? Would he be attacked the moment he let his guard down? He stared at the woman, coiled as tight as a spring.

“Are you alright?” the woman asked, brows furrowed in what seemed to be concern.

He didn’t trust it.

He didn’t trust _her_.

Why would she try to help him when her own relative was the one had been attacking him in the first place?

“I’m going to heal your wounds, is that alright?” she asked.

It wasn’t like he was in a position to say no. He’d probably be better off just getting this over and done with as quickly as possible.

The Professor moved in a very deliberate way, almost like she was broadcasting her intentions. It bristled that she was treating him like a traumatised little victim. The spells she cast were ones he didn’t recognise. He refused to show his surprise at that, even though he thought he knew most of the common healing charms. He carefully did not react when the various aches over his body eased, even the persistent throbbing over his right ribcage.

The shock came, however, when the woman spun around and launched into a verbal evisceration of her ‘cousin’ and gang of hooligans. So he was right in that they shared blood. ‘Cousin’ was a rather vague term, however. It could mean anything from sharing the same ancestor from centuries ago to having the same grandparent.

It was a highly entertaining spectacle to see them held accountable for their actions, for once. Even better that it was Potter’s own relative that was doing it. For a moment, he could even see Potter and Black’s faces crumple a little under the wrath of the young woman. A form of poetic justice, he supposed.

That was, of course, provided this was not just an act or a trick.

Whatever it was, Severus enjoyed the sight of the four boys running away with their tails tucked between their legs.

Unfortunately, that then left Severus to bear the brunt of the woman’s attention. She had on an encouraging smile, something that he immediately doubted, and handed him his wand. She was even polite about it, offering it to him the right way to show she had no hostile intentions.

“I apologise, I don’t quite recall your name.” She looked entirely too believable when she said that. Either she really had no clue or she was much more Slytherin than his first judgment had allowed.

“Severus…Snape.” He could not help the slight pause in his words. No one in his house had taken kindly to his blood status. It had taken extreme effort to prove that he was a more than competent wizard before they finally left him alone about it.

Her face did not so much as twitch at the non-magical last name. Guileless or too Slytherin, he had to ask himself again. He tended more to the latter, as it was obvious she could not have survived in this house if it were the former.

There was a little more polite chatter, her asking after his health, him being as reticent as he could without being overly rude.

Her next action was another startling one in the whole line of shocking events.

In the end, he was left to stare at her back as she made off, holding the jar of bruise paste in hand.

~~~

As far as Severus was aware, the Professor had made good of her punishment. The next morning, Gryffindor’s points were far into the negatives. It was only the start of the year, after all. They had not already racked up 200 points to lose. The hubbub over at the lions’ table was satisfying to watch. Even better that it was somehow known that it was the Marauders that had somehow caused the problem. The dirty looks they got from their housemates were many.

The confiscation of their wands was also something that was maintained. The teachers all passed them their wands only for the duration of the lessons, but took them back by the end of them. It was a punishment Severus had not seen employed before, but according to Hogwarts, A History, was a valid one.

Personally, he found it leagues more effective than the usual detentions. Even he would be cowed at the idea of having his means of casting magic taken away from him.

Speaking of detentions, the Marauders did indeed have one every night with the Professor. He’d heard Potter, Black and Pettigrew complain loudly and incessantly to anyone who would hear of the nasty, horrid things they had to do. It was laughable that they thought those were the worst ingredients they could be made to work with. He knew for a fact that the Stinksap stores were about to be depleted. He looked forward to the torture they would be under then.

What caught his attention, however, was the way Lupin looked at the Professor. Like she had hung the moon and stars in the sky. It made him want to burst into fits of laughter. A crush. The spineless idiot had a crush on the Potions Professor. Was he some sort of glutton for punishment? Did he actually _enjoy_ the detention and restrictions on his wand?

That was something that bore further observation.

Severus had to make sure Lily remained oblivious to his intent scrutiny, however. Already, she had questioned him on his interest in the new teacher. He had waved it off with the explanation that he was watching out for how to get into the Professor’s good graces. It wasn’t entirely false, either. Lily had rolled her eyes with a ‘typical Slytherin’ and let him off, but she would not be fooled for long.

He never told her about any of the incidents he had with Potter and gang. Not if she did not directly witness it.  It would only worry her. Then she would try to get back at Potter. Which would then make him angry and attack him again. It was a vicious cycle that Severus didn’t care for.

What he would never admit, of course, was that he couldn’t bear the shame of revealing how often he was beaten by the no-good thugs.

He still wasn’t sure of the new Professor, but he could admit that she was a more competent than had Slughorn ever been. She had taught him more in one week than Slughorn had in his past three years at Hogwarts.

The man had been uncreative, inflexible and utterly boring. It was always ‘brew by the book’ with him. Any deviation from the norm was not encouraged, but rather penalised. His lessons sought to stifle any true innovation or talent, but Severus had refused to be smothered. He had given what the man wanted in class, but outside? Well, no one bothered to restrict his experiments so long as he was smart about them.

Now, under Professor Potter’s instruction, class had become infinitely more tolerable. His classmates were still the mindless nitwits Slughorn had cultivated, but some of them were trying to break out of that mould.

For the first time in his Hogwarts education, Severus was made to really _think_ in Potions class. Granted, most of the content was still easy to him, but occasionally there would be a question that tripped him up, gave him pause.

Professor Potter _enjoyed_ challenging her students. She pushed and prompted and forced them to work things out themselves. But she was never cruel about it. If no one in class could answer the question, then she was happy to explain it. Most importantly, she wanted her students to _try_.

That spark of daring in her eyes when she asked a question that was just a little beyond the scope of their level was something he began to look forward to in class.

~~~

“Snape.”

Severus looked up from his work and glanced coolly at Murdoc Mulciber. His housemate thrust a letter at him and walked away without a backwards glance. He snatched it before it could touch the wet ink on his parchment, irritated at the boy. He had been one of his most vocal decriers back in first year, sneering down at his old books, loose robes and dirty blood.

“What is it, Severus?”

Lily, who had dragged him to the library to study with looked at the letter with some curiosity. He fingered the envelop open and took out the note to read. He frowned.

“Professor Potter’s asked me to see her at her office tomorrow at 3.”

Lily’s eyebrows went up towards her hairline. “What did you do?”

“Nothing!” he said defensively. He stuffed the paper in his bookbag with some degree of irritation. What could the Professor possibly want with him?

“I know you’ve been watching her pretty closely,” his friend said, “Were you planning something?”

“Of course not! I’m not dumb enough to go after a teacher!” He rolled his eyes. “Besides, I’ve told you that I just want to get a measure of her.”

“She’s a great teacher, isn’t that enough?” Lily said, exasperated. “I haven’t had this much fun in Potions ever!”

“Yes, but she’s Potter’s _cousin_!” he hissed.

“So?” Lily looked unimpressed. “I hate that arrogant toerag as much as you do,” _unlikely_ , “but even I can see she doesn’t play favourites. In fact, those boys haven’t dared to make a ruckus in her class since she made them drink those potions they messed up.”

Oh, yes, Severus remembered _that_. The sludge had been entirely safe for consumption, of course. Safe was a rather different concept from palatable, unfortunately. Potter and his clique had been green for the whole day afterwards. Both literally and figuratively.

He still couldn’t entirely relax, however. For years, Potter had been associated with bad news for him. He wouldn’t simply trust this new Potter, even if she appeared to be a good and fair Professor.

It could all be an elaborate prank. Who was to say that she was not in cahoots with Potter to garner his trust and then humiliate him in the worst possible manner?

No, he would need to remain observant.

~~~

Professor Potter _looked_ friendly enough when he was welcomed into the office. Of course, that meant next to nothing in Slytherin house, except perhaps to be on his guard. No one was nice without reason.

“Professor Potter, may I ask why I have been called to your office?” he asked, cutting to the chase.

She smiled that smile of hers, designed to lull stupider people into security. Severus was not one of them.

“Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble. I would just like to have a friendly chat. This is so I can get to know you better and find out if there’s anything I can do for you as your Head of House.”

Ah, so an attempt to gather information. A sensible move on her part. He doubted that the students would have given up anything easily. She was shrewd, though, he had to give her that. She might be able to find something out even if he did not speak.

“What would you like to know?” He would answer as minimally as he could.

Her first few questions were met with short answers. He made sure to affix a blank expression to his face, revealing nothing.

Then Professor Potter said something that managed to throw him off.

“Are you thinking of joining any of the school clubs? I remember your mother was a dab hand at gobstones.”

Before Severus could stop himself, he blurted, “You know my mother?”

That idea was just so discombobulating that he could not keep his silence. How could they have even met? They were a generation apart in age and he was sure his mother had to have left the wizarding world when Professor Potter was still a young child.

“Not exactly, but my mother was friends with her. They were both in Slughorn’s little club. I’m not sure if your mother has mentioned her, Dorea Black?”

That explained both everything and nothing. Severus had never heard the name. The concept of his mother even having friends was a strange one. She never seemed to talk about anyone other than his father and him, never left the house other than to buy necessities with the meagre funds they had. To have been friends with a Black, a member of one of the most prestigious families in Wizarding Britain. It was simply bizarre.

Another fact then occurred to him. Professor Potter was related to _both_ Potter and Black. It gave him a headache just to think about. That explained why both of them had spoken to her so familiarly.

That also meant that she was related to Regulus as well. That opened up another avenue of investigation.

“No, I will not be joining any clubs.” He plainly ignored everything else that had been said.

He tried to go back to speaking as little as possible, but then the Professor had to bring Lily into it. He could not help the vehement reaction he had. Lily was his absolute greatest friend and he would not have anything said against her. Not the least by a relative of Potter and Black!

“It was a simple question, Mr Snape.” Professor Potter had an eyebrow raised at his impertinence and he could feel the scolding in her voice.

He apologised insincerely.

There was an uncomfortable silence wherein Severus cursed himself. He had come into this conversation determined to deflect all attempts to squirrel information out of him. And yet a few questions in he had already given away his worst weaknesses! Professor Potter seemed to know exactly where to poke and prod. The stare she was giving him now made him feel exposed, vulnerable. Like she knew all his deepest secrets without even asking.

He _hated_ it.

“You know, Mr Snape,” Professor Potter began slowly, looking at him with great consideration, “back when I was a student here, my only friends were two Gryffindors as well.”

He looked at her, surprised by the information and the fact that she was sharing it. Her lips quirked up with humour.

Nodding, she continued, “Yes, Fred and George Weasley, twins. Well, I suppose technically they’re also my cousins, of a sort. Their mother is a Black. Anyway, I know a snake spending all their time with a lion might not be very well received.” She had a very nostalgic look on her face, as if recalling her own experiences in school.

Her eyes focussed on him again, back from her trip down memory lane. “If you get any trouble that escalates beyond what you can reasonably handle, I sincerely hope you will let me help.”

She was more expressive than any Slytherin he had met. He had been able to see the whole cycle of emotion she went through in just a few seconds.

How was that even _possible_?

One moment, she seemed like the epitome of a cool, controlled snake. The next, she wore her heart on her sleeve, offering aid unasked like a bloody badger.

She looked so sincere in her offer of help. Her hopeful, wide eyes were practically begging him to agree. She couldn’t have lied about understanding his circumstances. No one could lie that well. She had been best friends with Gryffindors herself. Had probably faced similar disdain from her own housemates for ‘cavorting with the enemy’.

“Okay,” slipped unbidden from his traitorous lips. The word hung in the air between them. He was helpless to take it back.

The wide, beaming smile she gave him was far too bright to hold any shadows. He didn’t know how to react to it. He wasn’t used to such joy directed towards him. He averted his eyes.

To his utter relief, the next question was to be the last. He tried to answer her question with as much diplomacy as possible, but she saw through him immediately.

He saw no harm in being truthful in this instance, so he spoke the truth. If nothing else, he at least acknowledged that Professor Potter was a more skilled brewer than Slughorn. She even shared with him that he had been right about why she was teaching the way she did.

Her emphasis on her students working hard was difficult to miss. She had all but stated that she would be keeping the lazy students out of her NEWTs class.

With that, the interview finally came to an end. When given one last chance to ask her something, however, Severus could not resist. The problem had wracked his mind for _weeks._ No matter how hard he had tried, he had not been able to find a solution.

It was just a simple question. Purely academic in nature. There was no feasible way Professor Potter could turn it against him. She had already demonstrated that inquisitive, eager students were highly encouraged.

He asked about the bruise paste.

 _Bruise paste_.

He was almost humiliated by his question. It was one of the simplest potions one could make. Even _Pettigrew_ could probably make a passable batch without exploding his cauldron.

However, his curiosity easily surpassed his embarrassment. He _needed_ to know what Professor Potter had done to the simple potion. There wasn’t much one could do to the potion, simple as it was, to modify it to such an extent. Nothing save for making it into an entirely different potion in the first place. Or so he had thought.

The answer was not one he had expected. He never seemed to, when it came to the Professor.

“Mr Snape, what do you know of Runic Potions?”

Then the conversation proceeded so quickly that he did not have the time to recover from the whiplash. Words were spoken, worlds were shaken, then Severus found himself with a copy of the expensive journal he had been coveting for _years_ , since he had learnt what potions _were_.

“You are free to go, Mr Snape. Have a nice weekend.”

He was overwhelmed, he didn’t know what to say. Then there was that _smile_. He stood quickly, walked even faster to the door. But for some reason, he found himself lingering on the threshold. The urge took hold of him, he could not stymie it for the life of him.

“Thank you, ma’am,” he muttered. He escaped before he said anything else humiliating. He kept his head low until he could feel the heat dissipate from his cheeks.

~~~

With some time and distance between him and that conversation, he finally came back to his senses. He _still_ could not believe he had lost his composure like that. It was just shameful that he had let Professor Potter get the better of him like that. How had she done it? He hadn’t taken any of her offered food or beverage. Perhaps an aerosolised substance? A spell? Nothing made sense!

He had gotten the journal out of it, but at what cost? What information had the Professor gleaned from his period of weakness? What was she planning to do with it?

It was all highly frustrating.

He decided that there was little he could do at the moment other than gather more information. Regulus had been amenable to spend the coming Hogsmeade weekend with him, so that was something, at least. Surely the boy would have useful information on his relative. How to get him to talk about her would bear thinking about, but he would do that another time.

Now, now was the time to devour the new reading material he had gotten. He had been tempted to read it from start to finish, but the hint Professor Potter had given about Runic Potions was impossible to ignore.

The discovery had thrown the Potions community into an uproar. Up until recently, no one had even contemplated the idea of combining the two. It was simple, one could not write runes into a potion. It was simply not possible. Magic could do many things, but it did not allow a wizard to write in water, not without having the ink or pigment dissipate. And in such a fussy and precise art as Runes, one brush stroke out of place could spell certain doom. Not to mention the headache of calibrating the addition of ink or colouring agent into each recipe.

The article in the journal explained as much.

The author, one Lyra Black, had gone through similar struggles in the beginning when trying to find a medium to write the runes with. At one point, they had even tried carving ingredients into the desired runic shape. Needless to say, that had not yielded anything but a huge mess to clean up. It was much later that they discovered a way to use the runes while keeping the recipe exactly as written.

Magic.

Truly. Just raw magic. It was pure, it wouldn’t introduce impurities into the potion. If applied at the cardinal stable points of a potion’s preparation, it would not unbalance it. It was mouldable, according to the author, though that was much easier said than done.

Even without knowing who the author was, Severus knew they were a formidable wizard or witch. Not just anyone could wield raw magic with such a degree of intricacy. To actually form delicate strokes and precise shapes? Now that was practically unheard of, almost bordering on mythical.

Most people needed spells to shape their magic. To wield raw magic into such a feat spoke of an unthinkable level of control and willpower.

So Runic Potions required one to shape raw magic into the desired rune then feed it into the potion. The resulting potion would look entirely unchanged by the addition, but its effects would be obvious when used.

That was why his paste had not been able to entirely mimic the actions of Professor Potter’s despite looking exactly identical. He had recreated the recipe she’d used, but not the runes.

Then the realisation hit him. The amazing level of control and willpower, the utter skill needed. Professor Potter had that, if it was indeed her who brewed the bruise paste. He simply could not reconcile the two in his mind. Professor Potter had a slight frame, petite. She looked more delicate than most witches he knew. Yet she was powerful and skilful enough to wield raw magic with such accuracy?

Images of Professor Potter in class bombarded him. The confidence with which she spoke, the way she held herself. She was no fainthearted maiden.

It was like the ultimate Slytherin deception. Under that soft, unthreatening, innocent appearance, lay unseen talents and strengths that would intimidate most.

Severus was ashamed to say he had fallen for it as well.

~~~

“Severus, hello!” Regulus said, nodding in greeting.

“Regulus.”

“Let’s go, before the crowds start to pick up.”

They walked out of the castle towards Hogsmeade, talking idly about school, their housemates and any interesting news.

If there was anyone he considered a friend other than Lily, it was Regulus. While the boy was a year younger than him, he was more tolerable than any of his yearmates by far. He had been wary at first, knowing he was Sirius Black’s younger brother, but the two were nothing alike.

Where Black was brash, rude and lazy, Regulus was shrewd, well-mannered and diligent. It also had to be said that Black took issue with Regulus being the perfect, Black heir their parents wanted.

“Thank you for the notes you lent me on Monday. I just got my essay back from Professor Flitwick and it was an O!”

“Not a problem. I am glad they helped you.”

They walked through the little village, occasionally stopping to look through the wares. Regulus bought a few pieces of candy at Honeyduke’s to share. Severus did not like sweets overmuch, but took a chocolate cauldron to be polite. When they saw the bookshop, they walked in to browse through the stock. The shopkeeper always brought new items in during a Hogsmeade weekend, knowing that sales would increase during that time.

“Oh,” Regulus said, looking up from the old tome in his hands, “Mother has sent me the book you were asking about. Remind me to pass it to you when we get back to the castle.”

“Of course.” Severus inclined his head. “I appreciate your help.”

“I looked through it a little, but I don’t understand it at all,” Regulus said, frowning. “Runes are just so complicated!”

“You are taking the elective this year, are you not?”

“Yes, but only because Mother said Runes and Arithmancy would be useful.” Regulus sighed. “Personally, I wanted Care of Magical Creatures. But I don’t think I’ll be able to cope with more than two electives.”

Severus nodded, used to hearing about such things. Regulus, unlike his rebellious brother, was not able to deny his parents anything. His mother often emphasised that Regulus was their only hope, with their firstborn scorning all the family teachings. It was a lot of pressure to put on him and Severus hated that Black was the cause of it. The boy was a disgrace as both a son and an elder brother.

“You have just started lessons. I believe you will gain more understanding as you proceed,” Severus said, referring to Runes class.

“Hopefully. It does seem interesting enough…” Regulus did not sound very convinced.

They left the store without buying anything. Regulus, because the Black library was more than adequate to fulfil his needs. Severus, because none of the books had been good enough to justify their cost.

“I am not the best in the subject myself, but if you should need, I will do my best to answer any questions you have.”

Regulus smiled in gratitude. “That’s a relief. And I’m sure you’re being modest. The book you’re borrowing is beyond fourth year.”

“There is some research I am interested in pertaining to runes,” he said.

The streets had gotten more crowded as the morning hours slipped past. Manoeuvring past a gaggle of Hufflepuffs, Severus spotted the Leaky Cauldron.

“Shall we head inside for lunch? Any later and we might not have seats,” he suggested. Regulus nodded in agreement and they were lucky enough to be directed to the last empty table in the pub.

“Research? I never thought I’d see the day you show so much interest in something other than potions,” Regulus teased.

“As a matter of fact,” Severus said, looking unimpressed, “the research I was referring to is about the use of runes in potions.”

Chuckling, Regulus said, “I knew it! You would never forsake your true love for something like runes!”

The topic of conversation reminded him of what he had wanted to ask Regulus.

“I was actually lent a potions journal which had an article on the matter,” Severus began. He was surprised, however, when Regulus sat up straight in his seat and turned to look across the room. He then waved excitedly to two people standing near the bar.

“Heather, Hadrian! Feel free to sit with us!”

The name rang a bell in his mind and he turned to see the intended target of his conversation looking right at them. Good Merlin it _was_ Professor Potter.

Regulus gave him a sheepish look. “You don’t mind, do you?” he whispered.

Severus did indeed, but he could not very well say so, could he? Stifling a grunt of annoyance, he muttered in acquiesce.

When Regulus made the introductions, he learnt that the man that was with the Professor was her brother. He might have made the inference himself, seeing the resemblance between them. While the man had copper hair to her black, they both had the same eyes.

He also learnt that the man was not one for formalities. He was informal, friendly, jovial, very much a Gryffindor. Within a few seconds of their acquaintance, he started addressing him by his first name.

It was all very awkward. On Severus’ part at least. Regulus, on the other hand, was very much at home with his cousins. They seemed to have a close relationship. Severus had not seen Regulus be this comfortable with anyone else before.

He thought he had been saved by the arrival of their meals, but then Regulus had to go and suggest that he and Professor Potter address each other using their first names! Although she had not been his teacher for long, he was still uneasy about referring to her so familiarly. In the end, however, he had to agree. It was a relief to know the ‘privilege’ was to be revoked when they back in school.

Like a switch had been flicked, Professor Potter (he was not about to call her by name in his mind!) started acting more casually. She was freer with her words, bickering fondly with her brother about Quidditch, of all things.

Regulus saw fit to inform him that it was a common occurrence for the two siblings, looking almost wistful about it. Likely wishing that his relationship with his own brother was so affectionate.

Severus was relieved when the meal was finally done. Neither of the Potters lingered afterwards, leaving him alone with Regulus. One good thing about the whole incident was that Severus now had an excuse to bring Professor Potter up in conversation.

“You seem very close to them, even though they are several years older,” he commented lightly.

Nodding happily, Regulus said, “Heather looked after all of us, the Black and Potter children, when we were younger. She was great. She let us have fun, but didn’t let us go overboard, so we never got in trouble.”

“Don’t you have an older cousin? Bellatrix? Wouldn’t it make sense for her to be in charge?”

Regulus had a complicated expression on his face. “Yes, Cousin Bellatrix,” he said reluctantly. “She hated spending time with the ‘babies’. She’d much preferred hanging around with her friends during the summer than deal with us. Heather wasn’t very old herself back then, but the adults all trusted her. Between you and me,” Regulus said, lowering his voice, “Grandfather has always favoured Heather among all his grandchildren. For a while, there was talk that she would be the Heiress instead of Sirius.”

Disbelief shot through Severus. The previous Head of the Blacks was rather notorious for his difficult nature. He wondered how Professor Potter had managed to charm him so thoroughly. It wasn’t for anything that a Lord would consider switching up the natural line of succession.

Reading his expression, Regulus nodded gravely. “It almost happened, but there’s never been a female Head of the Black family. Father didn’t approve of it, and by then he was already Head, there was nothing Grandfather could do. Personally, though, I know where the biggest cut of the old man’s inheritance is heading,” he concluded with an impish smile.

“Professor Potter must be a formidable witch, then.”

“Oh yes, of course. She was never really into duelling, but her magic is stronger than most people I’ve met. Her magic manifested rather early, and strongly too, according to family rumours.” There was a glint in his eyes that spoke of admiration and wonder. It was clear that the boy adored his cousin. “Although Hadrian surpassed even her in that aspect. There’s a reason he’s lined up to be the youngest Defence Master in recent memory.”

Although Regulus’ words seemed to indicate that Hadrian Potter was the stronger wizard, his tone did not possess the amount of respect that he had for Professor Potter. It was rather peculiar.

“Her specialties lie in more esoteric subjects,” Regulus continued, oblivious to Severus’ thoughts, “like warding, runes and, of course, potions.”

The words piqued his attention. “Runes and potions, you say? So she can brew the runic potions I was talking about earlier?”

To his bafflement, Regulus burst into quiet, but helpless laughter at that. “Can she brew them, he asks,” Regulus muttered softly. “You’ll find that she can, and does, all the time. She was the one who developed them.”

The revelation shocked him. “But the article claims that Lyra Black invented them!” Another cousin, perhaps. The person who taught the Professor how to brew?

That seemed to amuse Regulus even further. “Oh, she must’ve published under a pseudonym then. Lyra is Heather’s middle name. Grandfather likes to call her his little lyre. Which, yes, I know, sounds like ‘liar’ – far from complimentary – but Grandfather’s an ornery old sod like that.” Regulus seemed to realise that he had just insulted the previous Head of his family. “But you didn’t hear that from me,” he added hastily.

Severus had all but tuned out Regulus’ rambling, still caught up by the fact that Lyra Black was Heather Potter. Professor Potter had been the one to makes waves in the Potions community with her creation of Runic Potions. Every new fact he learnt about her never failed to give him a shock.

“So, Severus, meet you in the common room at half past nine?” Regulus said abruptly.

Snapping to attention, Severus played those words over again. “What? Why?”

Tilting his head in question, his friend said, “For Heather and Hadrian’s match! You can’t miss it! Heather practically gave us her permission anyway.”

Thinking over that part of the conversation, Severus realised that Regulus was right. The Professor had only warned them not to get caught.

“You know I don’t care much for Quidditch…” he said uncertainly.

“Oh come on, Severus,” Regulus pleaded, “The way those two fly, it’s like they were born in the air!” The boy then pouted, uncharacteristically childish. “I wish I could’ve seen them play when they were still in school. I heard their matches were amazing! You wouldn’t know about them, Heather graduated the year before you entered.”

He had not known that Professor Potter was that much older. She looked much younger than that.

“Alright,” he relented. Regulus would be unbearable otherwise. At any rate, it would be a good opportunity to observe the Professor further.


	3. Chapter 3

The hallways were dark at night, especially in the dungeons. The only lighting came from the bluebell flames inside the sconces on the walls. She had always wondered why no one thought to build charmed windows here, though she supposed it might have been a deliberate decision to maintain the aesthetic gloom of the dungeons.

Nightly patrols were a necessary evil for teachers and it was currently Heather’s turn on the rotation. She hadn’t been much of a model student herself, but she had made sure never to get caught. So, she tried to give her students the benefit of doubt when it came to their antics. As long as they didn’t do anything dangerous, she wouldn’t try too hard to find them. Though how they honestly thought she couldn’t hear their frantic footsteps as they tried to hide when she came around was cute. At least use a Cat’s Paw Charm or any other silencing spell, seriously.

She was also prepared to ignore the group of her own snakes that were hiding around the corner behind her, but then she sighed and pivoted on her heel, catching the red spell light right in front of her face and flinging it towards the wall. It dissipated uselessly and burst into sparks.

“And what is the meaning of this?” she asked, unimpressed, even though she already knew the answer. Honestly, she hadn’t to deal with this since she was a first year here, when some of the older Slytherins had decided that they wanted to establish their supremacy over the new students. As if it would have proven anything other than that they had inferiority complexes. And even if they hadn’t had one, then they certainly developed one when they were soundly thrashed by an eleven-year-old girl.

One, two, three, four boys slunk out of the shadows, wands raised and what they must have thought were menacing expressions on their faces. Fourth years, Murdoc Mulciber, Damon Avery, Augustus Rookwood and Thorfin Rowle. Old enough to think they had a chance. Young enough to not know better. Those who had been in school with her were the only ones who had not given her any trouble as a new, young teacher.

“Do you really think you have what it takes to be Head of Slytherin?” Murdoc sneered. His grip on his wand was loose, posture relaxed. It was almost insulting how much he obviously underestimated her. She wasn’t that fond of duelling, no, that was Hadrian, but she was certainly more than capable of defending herself.

“It’s certainly something to adjust to, though I would say the Headmaster thinks so,” she answered, feigning ignorance.

That got mocking laughter from the group.

“The Headmaster, she says,” Thorfin jeered, “I knew she was one of _those_ people.”

“You’re hardly behaving in a respectable manner for your position! All you do is pander to the fools in those other houses!” Augustus accused.

“You mean by being _impartial_ to all my students?” she said slowly, as if speaking to idiots, “Well, then yes I suppose so, if that’s what you think is unrespectable.”

The four boys reared up in offence at her tone, which she paid no attention to.

“Now, I will turn a blind eye in this instance, but if I catch you at it again, there will be consequences. If you’ll excuse me,” she said, turning her back deliberately on them.

The volley of spells that hit her shield made her pause in her steps. Without even looking back at them she said quietly, “This is your last warning.”

“Or what?” Damon taunted, finally breaking his silence, “You’ll tell the _Headmaster?”_ His voice went up in pitch in a poor attempt to imitate her voice.

“Or you’ll find out why none of your older housemates would have anything to do with this little plan of yours,” she said calmly, twisting her neck to catch their ripple of shock that ran through them. Ah, hit the nail on the head, didn’t she?

Their only answer was to start casting more spells. The sounds of their incantations echoed down the hallway and she couldn’t believe they didn’t even care that anyone could catch them ganging up on a teacher. If any of her colleagues saw this scene, they’d probably suggest expulsion, or suspension at the least. None of these spells were very mild, or even classified as Light. If they had the time to learnt these spells, then why not learn nonverbal? Seriously, their priorities were skewed.

She let them vent some of their frustration. They were just standing there, firing curses from their wands. They didn’t even move towards her to try to find a weak spot. The Defence teacher must be every bit as incompetent as she had suspected he was. That, or they were as recalcitrant in his lessons as they were in hers. Probably a bit of both.

It was only when her layers of shield spells began to crack that she actually retaliated. Her wand sprang to her hand from her holster and she pinned them to a wall with a spell in one deft motion. Their wrists and ankles were held by glowing white cuffs to the stone, restricting their movement. Then she summoned their wands easily, catching them all in one hand.

Watching in amusement as they all struggled fruitlessly against their bonds, she waited until they finally grew tired of it.

“Anything else you boys would like to add?” she asked, smirking when they glared at her. It was funny that they thought they could threaten her while being under her mercy. “No? Alright then, a month’s detention, each of you, and 200 points from Slytherin. Your housemates will know you are the reason for that, so I suggest you start thinking of a way to explain yourselves to them. Oh, and your wands will be confiscated for the month as well.”

Then she started to walk away.

“You can’t just leave us here like this!” Thorfin shouted, a tinge of panic in his voice.

“Ah, thank you for reminding me.” Smiling sweetly, she cast a Silencing Charm on all four of them. They opened their mouths to scream soundlessly at her, but she paid no more heed to them and carried on with her patrol.

Of course, she released the spell as soon as she returned to her quarters. She wasn’t cruel enough to leave them hanging there the whole night. She didn’t want to _actually_ hurt them, just give them a little lesson in picking their battles.

She _was_ their teacher after all.

The morning found her in her office before breakfast as usual. She set aside some office hours in the morning because she always woke early anyway. The more industrious – or desperate – students usually saw her then.

To her surprise, the first student to come calling for her on that day was Severus Snape. He had never sought her out of his own volition before, not even after she had lent him that potions journal. She had wondered if he would ask her to teach him how to brew runic potions – he had seemed interested – but she guessed that he wanted to try by himself first. He was a rather independent student.

“Good morning, Mr Snape. How can I help you today?”

Instead of answering, the boy stared intently, as if looking for something.

“Mr Snape?”

That caught his attention.

“Professor, I have a question about yesterday’s lesson, but if you are not feeling well…” he trailed off.

Severus was acting rather strangely.

“I’m perfectly alright, thank you,” she said, bemused. “What was it you wanted to ask?”

“Oh, that’s good,” he replied, surprised. And perhaps even relieved?

She was starting to suspect what was going on.

“On that note,” she said, “There are a few of your housemates that I’m worried about. Could you please check on them and see if they are well? Messrs Mulciber, Rookwood, Rowle and Avery.” Severus’ shoulders tensed at the names. “There was some trouble last night that may have left them feeling less than well.” She put on a sad expression. “I would do it myself, but I think they might be embarrassed to see me after the pickle they got themselves into.”

She looked at Severus with a straight face, but let the humour shine through her eyes. She thought she saw his mouth twitch before he nodded in agreement.

“Of course. I hope you were not adversely affected by whatever stunt they attempted, Professor,” Severus said.

“Oh, no need to worry about me, Mr Snape. They were just being very childish. That being said, I will not tolerate such foolishness happening again.”

Heather could tell he had gotten her message. Whether he would spread it around or just let his housemates flounder about in their flimsy endeavours to show their power, she wasn’t sure.

“Alright, enough about that. You had a question for me?”

And so she spent the morning having a rousing debate about the use of obsidian versus steel knives in the preparation of daisy roots.

~~~

There weren’t any more attacks on her by foolhardy students after that. Either Severus had informed the other Slytherins of her message, or the fifth through seventh years had been angry enough about the loss of house points to step in. Whichever it was, she was grateful for one less hassle.

Before she knew it, the first term was over and the Yule holidays had begun. There were a few of her Slytherins that had decided to stay during this period, which was why she had opted to as well. She would still return home for Christmas Eve and Day, of course. She hadn’t seen her parents since she started work as a teacher. There were letters, of course, but she still missed them.

It was rather boring being in the castle during the holidays. She couldn’t believe that she thought that, but it was true. For a teacher, at least. There was no homework to be marking, no classes to plan for, just watching over the students to make sure they didn’t burn down the castle in the midst of their holiday fervour.

She had spent the first few days relaxing and enjoying the break, but she soon got restless with the lack of work. She had never done well with idle time.

At least there was still brewing to be done for Poppy. Winter meant snow, and snow meant colds and flus. It also, apparently, meant racing down snow mounds in transfigured sleds and breaking arms, in the case of a few third year Gryffindors. Kudos for creativity, however.

While she usually used the private lab that was attached to her living room, in a fit of nostalgia, she headed for the classrooms. She rarely brewed during her lessons, needing to keep an eye on the students’ volatile cauldrons. She would have liked for the time to provide demonstrations for her classes, but the curriculum was packed enough.

When she got to the first potion lab, however, she noticed that it was already occupied. It surprised her that there was someone brewing in here even during the holidays, but she supposed she should have expected it from this particular student. Severus was quite possibly her best student, even though he was still just a fourth year. She fully believed he could attain his Mastery in the future if he wanted to. Maybe even take the title of youngest Master in the field from her.

Heather was about to leave him alone and use another lab when she noticed him making a movement with his wand over what looked like half-finished Boil Cure in his cauldron. Immediately, she felt the concoction destabilise and she reacted without thinking at the surge of magic.

In a split second, she raised a barrier over the cauldron, containing the tiny explosion that happened. At the same time, she saw that Severus had used _Protego_ on himself, a full body one, she noted with approval.

“Are you alright?” she asked, coming into the lab. There didn’t seem to be any splatter outside of the barrier, but one could never be too sure. It never hurt to be cautious when it came to Potions.

He turned his attention to her, first startled, then annoyed. His expression smoothed over as quickly as he could manage and she made no mention of the play of emotions over his face.

“I am fine, Professor,” he said with as much dignity as he could manage. She didn’t miss the way he tried to step in between her and the cauldron, trying to hide it from view. If she had to guess, he was probably embarrassed by his mishap with a first year potion.

“I apologise, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said, frowning.

Severus nodded jerkily. “Thank you for your help,” he said, obvious reluctance in his voice.

Finally, curiosity won out and she had to ask, “What were you trying to do?”

The boy’s expression twitched a little. He looked highly uncomfortable with the whole conversation. She did have some idea of what was going on, but she backed off. She didn’t want to harry the poor boy.

“That’s alright, I’ll just leave you to it, Mr Snape. Happy brewing!” Heather said quickly, stepping away.

That was when she heard him mumble something to her.

“Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

Severus peered at her through narrow eyes. Probably wondering if she had been making fun of him. She must have seemed sincere enough, for he repeated his words, louder this time.

“I’m trying a runic potion.”

She couldn’t help the delighted smile that stretched her lips. She clasped her hands together, trying to contain her excitement.

“How are you doing so far?”

He shot her a look of irritation, fingers flicking to the mess behind him.

She held back a laugh, knowing it wouldn’t do any good here.

“I meant what have you learnt so far? I used to explode my potions all the time when I was just starting too.”

Shaking his head sharply, he said, “It’s not the same, Professor. _You_ invented them.”

She was a taken a little off guard at that. She had published all her work under a pseudonym. Granted, it wasn’t a very good one. Anyone who knew her would immediately make the connection. Perhaps one of her cousins had told Severus.

“Everyone makes mistakes when they’re learning something, Mr Snape,” she said, smiling.

“I feel like I haven’t made any damned progress at all!” The words came bursting forth, like a pressure cooker released.

For the first time, she noticed the stains on his fingers, the messiness of his hair, the bags under his eyes. She wondered how long he had been at this. It must have frustrated him to keeping failing in his attempts, especially when he was normally excellent in Potions.

She hoped she didn’t offend him with her offer, but she had to make it.

“I would be happy to provide some instruction, if you want some.”

Severus blinked owlishly at her, as if she had said something ridiculous. That was the problem with her house, no one believed it when something was offered freely without compensation.

“You don’t have to agree right now,” she added, “There’s no time limit on this, you can take time to think on it.” Then she nodded to him in farewell and made to leave the room.

Before she could reach the door, however, her student said something.

“Wait.”

She stopped in her tracks to look back at him. There was a calculating look in his eyes and he seemed to be considering his words.

“You wish to teach me how to brew runic potions,” he said carefully.

“Yes.”

“ _Why?”_

Sighing, she smiled a little. “Maybe because I am your _teacher_? I enjoy teaching, especially when my student is willing and eager.”

A light red tint appeared on his cheeks when he registered the compliment. He seemed flustered by it. Or perhaps it was the fact that she was giving him something without any ulterior motives.

“I would…appreciate some advice,” he muttered after some moments of silence.

Closing the door behind her, she asked, “What have you got so far?”

~~~

Stumbling out of the floo. Heather fell into someone’s warm arms. She smiled, leaning further into the hold. Catching her before she took a tumble to the floor was old hat to her father by now. Mama had bemoaned her daughter’s clumsiness with wizarding travel, wondering where all her lessons on poise and ladylike behaviour went to, but Heather knew Papa secretly liked their little tradition.

“Welcome home, sweetheart.”

She closed her eyes, enjoying the low tenor of her father’s voice, something she had missed out on over these last few months of exchanging only letters. Perhaps she should firecall her family more. Or even better still, visit them during term. She had mostly gotten used to her job by now, so hopefully she’d have more time.

“It’s good to be home, Papa.”

“Now come on, let me take a look at you.” Her father leaned back, taking in her appearance from head to toe. “Has my daughter gotten even _more_ beautiful?” he gasped dramatically, “I’ll have to get your brother to help me chase those suitors off! This old man can’t duel like he used to!”

She laughed, leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. “First of all, Papa, you’re barely middle aged, stop calling yourself old! Second, I don’t need anyone to defend me, I can do that well enough on my own!”

“I see you didn’t deny the beautiful part.”

She turned around at the voice and cocked an eyebrow at her brother.

“I know better than to argue with Papa about _that_. I’ll set him off on another of his spiels!”

Rian’s smirk turned into a wry grin. “Point.”

Rolling her eyes, she beckoned him over and pulled him into the hug as well.

“I missed you guys!”

A polite cough caught her attention and she bent sideways a little to see her mother standing behind her father with a faux offended look on her face.

“No hug for your dear old mother?”

She extricated herself from her father and brother, striding forward to wrap her arms around her mother. The familiar scent of her perfume made her sigh a little. Childhood memories of them picking flowers in the garden and then brewing the perfume in the lab had her pressing a smile into her mother’s shoulder before letting go.

“Hello, Mama. How have you been?”

“Perfectly well, though your father’s been moping about how quiet the house is now.”

“You’re a fine one to talk Dorea!” Papa said, chuckling, “I wasn’t the one insisting we attend all those functions just to feel busy!”

“Oh hush, Charlus!” her mother said, lifting her chin slightly, “All of those dinners were for meaningful causes!”

Heather joined in on the laughter before catching her mother’s attention. “I’m sorry. I really missed you all. I’ll visit more now that I’ve got a handle on my work, I promise.”

“Hmph, see that you do,” Mama said imperiously. “Now come along. Instead of standing around, we can catch up over some tea. I have a new blend I think you will like, Heather.”

Same old Mama. Heather shook her head, grinning, as she followed her to the patio.

“And Hadrian, darling, please wash up before joining us,” Mama added without turning to look back.

Her brother sighed good-naturedly and went to do as ordered. It was a good thing, too, seeing as how he was all mussed up and slightly singed. It was obvious he had just finished some sort of workout, perhaps against the dummies in the duelling room?

Papa gallantly pulled the chairs out for her mother and her. Heather took her seat with an exaggerated curtsey while Mama did so with more dignity and elegance.

“So tell us, Heather, how has your new job been treating you? You look happy,” Papa asked, after thanking Bumby, one of their house elves, for serving the tea.

“It’s been great!” she enthused, “The students were sceptical of me at first, but I think I’ve won them over.”

Her mother had a sly smile on her face. “The Slytherins, I presume? I’m sure they have a difficult time adjusting to the change in Head of House.”

Heather winked at her. “Oh, I’m sure they’ll come around soon, after a few much-needed lessons.”

Sighing Papa shook his head. “I’ll never understand you Slytherins. It’s like we’re having two different conversations.”

“There there, dear,” Mama said, patting her father’s hand, “Don’t pout, it’s unbecoming.”

“At least tell me if it’s something I need to worry about,” her father said, turning to her.

“No need, Papa. I can handle myself,” she reassured him. For his sake, she swiftly changed the topic of conversation. “Anyway, the most challenging part of it all is trying to fix Slughorn’s mistakes. He’s not a bad potioneer, but he can’t teach, that’s for certain. Most of the students think Potions is all about following the recipes in the textbook! They don’t know why an ingredient should or shouldn’t be added or how the number of stirs and temperature of the fire affect the potion. It’s worrying, to be honest.”

“I’m sure if anyone can teach them better, it’s you, Heather,” her mother said confidently.

“Your mother’s right!” her father said jovially, “I bet your students have already improved by leaps and bounds under your tutelage!”

Heather smiled at her parents. “It’s been a tough adjustment for them, but I think most of them are willing to learn. It’ll take a while for them to get a solid handle on the theory, but they’ll get there. There are a few students who I’m very impressed by, however. I think I’ve got one or two Potions Masters in-the-making. It’s admirable how far they’ve gotten despite Slughorn.”

“Oh?” Her mother looked interested, being partial to the art of Potions herself. “They must be talented, for you to be impressed.”

“Mama’s right, y’know,” Hadrian cut in as he joined them, fresh from his shower. He plopped down on the empty seat, grabbing a chocolate biscuit as he did. “Your standards are crazy.”

“Hadrian, don’t talk with your mouth full,” Mama admonished lightly.

Her brother swallowed, washing it down with a swig of tea. “Sorry.”

Heather ignored his last comment. “By the way, Mama, do you remember that friend of yours you mentioned, Eileen Prince?”

Her mother was unfazed by the sudden topic change. “Yes, she was three years below me, but we hit it off during a Slug Club meeting over our shared dislike for Slughorn’s obsequiousness. We owled each other after I graduated, but the letters abruptly stopped one day. Of course, later I found out she had been disowned, but not the reason for it.”

“Wasn’t she the witch you wanted as Heather’s godmother?” Papa asked. Her mother nodded distractedly, likely preoccupied with thoughts about her friend.

 _That_ came as a surprise to her. She hadn’t known her mother and Eileen Prince had been so close. Perhaps that was why she didn’t have an official godmother, but instead two godfathers.

“Well, her son is one of my students,” Heather said.

“Her son?” Her mother gave her a sharp-eyed look.

“Yes. Severus Snape. Presumably, Eileen Prince married a muggle, or at least a muggleborn.”

Understanding lit her mother’s face. “Ahh, I see. The Princes _are_ a rather traditional family. This is why I was never able to find an Eileen Prince. She changed her named once she married.”

“Isn’t Severus the one I met that day? Regulus’ friend?” Hadrian asked.

“You’ve met Eileen’s boy?” her father asked curiously.

“Yeah.” Hadrian shrugged. “When I met Heather for lunch at Hogsmeade a few months back. Rather quiet boy, shy maybe?”

“Perhaps,” Heather said, “He doesn’t have many friends, from what I can see. Mostly Regulus and a Gryffindor named Lily Evans. You can imagine how well _that_ is received.”

“Another halfblood?”

Heather shook her head. “Muggleborn.”

“The poor dear,” her mother sighed, “Halfblood in Slytherin and friends with a muggleborn Gryffindor. He can’t be having an easy time of it.”

While her mother’s words might be misconstrued as bigoted, Heather knew she didn’t mean it that way. None of their family held any prejudices against muggles or muggleborn, but Mama was all too aware of how such a thing might be seen in Slytherin. For all that they were proud of their House, they were also all too aware of its flaws.

“I don’t think Severus would appreciate that. He’s not one for pity.” She could only imagine how the prickly boy would react to that.

“Oh, of course, Heather,” her mother said, sighing again, “I hope you can try to help him. Hogwarts can be a lonely place to be with so many against you.”

“I’ll try my best, but I can’t really do much lest accusations of favouritism start to pop up.” Of course, if she was sneaky enough no one would ever find out. It seemed her mother understood her too well, because she got a knowing smile.

Suddenly, her father straightened in his seat, as if struck by something. “Dorea, maybe you could send a letter to Eileen through her son! I’m sure Heather would help with that!”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Mama said, strangely hesitant for someone as strong-willed as she was, “I wouldn’t want to bother the poor girl. It’s been more than a decade!”

“You two were good friends, right? I’m sure she’ll love to hear from you. Maybe she didn’t owl you because she didn’t want to drag your name down with hers after she was disowned!” Hadrian said, bringing up a good point.

“Severus seemed rather interested to hear that you were friends with his mother as well,” Heather said, “He’ll definitely be willing to play messenger. At least until you get their address.”

“Oh, alright,” Mama conceded. “You lot are such meddlers!”

“We learnt from the best, after all!” Hadrian said, making sure to stare right at Mama so she knew who he was referring to.

Mama huffed, taking a sip of tea to hide her amusement.

The topic moved on from there to the Christmas Eve dinner they would be having that night. Christmas Day would be spent with extended family, the Potters, Weasleys and Blacks, but the Eve was always just for their little family of four.

It was good being home again.

~~~

Heather had enjoyed the three days she spent back at home, but alas, duty called. It was time for her return to Hogwarts. She would keep to the promise she had made her mother, however. She definitely needed to make time for visits even during the school term.

The castle was still empty when she returned, with a few days left until the end of the Yule holidays. The peace and quiet was something of a relief, after the past two days of rambunctious cousins and loud parties. She loved her extended family, she did, but all the rowdiness was difficult to tolerate for long. She much preferred hanging out with a few of them at a time, not all in one big festive group.

“Ah, Heather, I see you have returned. How were your holidays?” Minerva asked when they bumped into each other near the foyer of the castle.

Heather hefted the basket of herbs she had just harvested from the greenhouses into the crook of her elbow. “It was great seeing my family again.” Smiling in chagrin, she added, “My parents complained that I haven’t been home enough.”

The older witch pursed her lips. “Has the workload been too much for you to handle? It can be very daunting for someone new to the job.”

Shaking her head, she said, “It was hard at the start, but I think I’m getting the hang of it. Thank you for the concern.”

Minerva waved it off. “No need to thank me Heather! All of us are here to help if you have any problems.”

“Thank you,” Heather repeated, grinning cheekily at Minerva’s look. “Anyway, how was the feast at the castle?”

“Oh, as sumptuous as always,” Minerva said, “Albus went overboard with the decorations again, but the children seemed to enjoy it.”

Raising an eyebrow, Heather said, “Oh, I guess I’ll have to go see them, if they haven’t been taken down yet.” She had never stayed over the Yule hols, so she didn’t know what ‘overboard’ looked like. She also hadn’t known that Dumbledore did the decorations himself. It wasn’t surprising news, however. He seemed the sort to enjoy such things. Judging by the man’s taste in robes, she could almost picture the garishness already.

“They’ll be up until New Year’s, but I suggest you save yourself the headache.” The pinched look on Minerva’s face had her stifling a laugh.

“Now you’ve got me curious.”

“It’s at your own risk,” she warned.

Heather gave in to the urge to laugh. “Alright then. I’ve enough Gryffindor in me to take up the challenge. Happy Yule!” Nodding to the other teacher, she said goodbye and headed for the dungeons. She would check out the Great Hall later. Some of these herbs needed to be prepared as soon as possible.

The new term would be starting soon and she needed to finish restocking the ingredient storage. Technically, she could just purchase what she needed from an apothecary, but the ingredients were cheaper and more potent this way. It was more work, but she didn’t mind it. Fred and George would tease her about being a perfectionist, but they weren’t here.

When she got to the classroom, she set her basket on an open bench and reached into her toolkit for her favourite copper knife. She hated using communal tools. They never felt as good as when she used her personal ones. Besides, the school knives were getting dull. Probably best to assign sharpening duty for her next detention.

She paused a little when she felt someone walking towards the room. Their magic was familiar and she could guess their identity.

Her hands started moving again, cutting the aloe into paper-thin slices. The motions were familiar, soothing. It had taken years of hard work and practice to get the muscle memory down, but it paid off now that she could do something like this mindlessly. She usually took this time to work through some theory in her head or plan lessons.

The door to the classroom creaked open, but she had her back to it, so she didn’t see as the person hesitated at the door before walking in. She didn’t see it, but she could guess from the lengthy pause before the door clicked shut and quiet steps made their way inside.

Heather looked up when Severus Snape came into view. She gave him a quick smile as she finished up this batch of aloe vera and put it into an empty phial.

“Good afternoon, Mr Snape. Did you have a good Christmas?”

She reached into the basket and got out the flutterby leaves. These would need fine chopping. Washing and drying her copper knife, she placed it carefully back into her kit before taking out the steel knife she needed.

“It was acceptable,” Severus said with his usual reticence.

“Please don’t mind me, go ahead and do what you came here to do.” She wouldn’t want to stop him from whatever brewing he was going to do. She knew if he had any further questions about runic potions he would ask her. Their past ‘lessons’ had been fruitful and he was already making some headway. It wasn’t easy for him to wield the raw magic required, but he was really working at it.

Severus nodded and went to the bench furthest from hers to set up.

They worked together in silence, occasionally broken by a question from Severus. By the end of it, Heather had a fully stocked ingredients cupboard and Severus had managed not to explode his cauldron with his latest attempt. She was really curious as to whether he had managed it, but she figured he’d probably snap at her if she tried to interfere.

“Thank you for the gift,” Severus whispered, out of the blue.

She was surprised, to say the least, to hear that from him. The gift in question was just a simple protective amulet she had made for each of her Slytherins. Easy enough to make, if one knew what they were doing. It made for good Christmas gifts for her students at least.

“You’re welcome, I hope it’s of use to you.”

There was some obvious hesitation on his part before he asked, “It protects against physical harm?”

“And light hexes and jinxes, as long as it still has magic in it. The note explains the spell needed to recharge the amulet.” She had left instructions with each gift on how to use it. It was simple, really. It would work on its own against threats, deflecting spells and attacks so long as it still had magic. The more it worked, the more magic it used up.

“Where did you obtain such a thing, Professor?” Severus asked, strangely interested.

“I made it,” she said, slightly confused by the question.

“You made it?”

“Yes? It’s modelled after Asian protective charms, especially Chinese and Japanese. Is there a problem?”

Severus seemed strangely frustrated by the revelation. She didn’t really know why.

“Were you hoping to buy another?” she guessed.

His face contorted. Ahh, that was it. Perhaps he wanted to give one to Lily. Or his parents maybe?

“I don’t mind making another for you. Or if you would prefer, the library has a book called Protective Charms of the World. I used information from that to create the amulets.” She already knew which option he would choose.

“Thank you for the offer, but I will try the book, Professor.”

For someone so guarded, he could certainly be predictable.

That was when she remembered the task her mother had for her.

“Mr Snape, I know this is unprofessional, but I have something personal to ask you.”

The boy immediately had his shields up at her words. His eyes were wary as he stared at her.

Reaching into her pocket for the letter her mother had written, she handed it to the boy. On the envelop, in large cursive writing, was _‘Eileen Snape’_.

“My mother lost contact with yours years ago. It was only until I told her about you that she found out Eileen Prince had married someone and changed her name. It would be a big favour if you could pass that letter along to your mother. My mother wishes dearly to reconnect with her.”

His expression was unreadable as he stared at the crisp white letter. She was about to just take back the whole thing when he nodded.

“I will send it along to my mother.”

Technically, as his teacher, Heather had access to his home address. It would be a rather gross abuse of her authority if she used it to owl the letter, however.

“Thank you, Mr Snape. My mother is grateful as well. As I understand it, they were very close when they were younger.” The wistfulness her mother had when she talked about Eileen was obvious. Hopefully they would be able to rekindle their friendship.

“It is no trouble, Professor. You have helped me as well.”

Her student’s words made her frown. “You don’t have to feel beholden to me, Mr Snape. I am only doing my part as your teacher. This is more of a personal request.”

The look he gave her screamed, _‘Are you daft?’_

“It is no trouble,” he reiterated, irked.

Right, well. She could only respond with a sheepish smile and thank him again.


End file.
